


Found in a Blizzard

by iCheat



Series: Steter Week 2018 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abominable Snowman Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Peter Hale, M/M, Magic, Murder, Nonverbal Communication, Steter Week, trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:12:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCheat/pseuds/iCheat
Summary: Peter didn’t even know why he agreed to go all the way to Alaska to help an acquaintance. Between the blizzard and the yeti it turned into quite an event. At least he gets to meet an old companion again.For Day 1 of Steter Week: Alpha!Peter AND Creature Stiles





	Found in a Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> So it begins.

Peter didn’t even know why he agreed to go all the way to Alaska to help an acquaintance. No one who knew him would believe it was kindness – Spencer certainly wouldn’t – and he wasn’t exactly part of a pack that could build up connections. When he’d left Beacon Hills shortly after the only interesting member of the crumbling pack Peter had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t end up part of another pack like that. If he was going to be part of a pack it would be a proper one.

Also one where he wouldn’t be shunted to the lowest position because of his past actions.

He’d been perfectly fine on his own. Regaining his Alpha-hood had been a genuine accident. A nearby pack had been ravaged by hunters and when Peter went to investigate because he still had a lot of anger and was more than willing to take out some hunters, he’d found the feral Alpha beaten and bloody. She’d attacked Peter before he even considered his options and he didn’t hesitate in killing her.

She was too far gone anyway.

He’d taken out the hunters shortly after and then left and returned to his life like nothing had changed.

It wasn’t nearly as hard to keep himself under control without a pack as he thought it would be. It might have been the years of being on his own, his experience on the edge of the pack, or his extreme desire to repeat his feral experience. Regardless Peter was happily settled and he needn’t need to be here.

So why was he wading through the snow to try and find a yeti that had supposedly been attacking hikers? Peter had his doubts about the story itself. Which might be why he’d come. Yetis were very rare, first of all, and usually far more interested in staying out of the way of people. They hunted, of course, but they were remarkably civilised for giant snow monsters and typically only attacked humans when threatened.

Peter had never actually met one, California wasn’t exactly snowman central, but one of his great Aunt’s had. She’d said it was an honour considering how few there were, even fewer of which would reside where humans, or even werewolves, could potentially run into them.

So maybe Peter had let his curiosity get the better of him.

He certainly regretted it now. There hadn’t been any snow storm due when he’d started his investigation but there was sure as fuck a snowstorm now. Peter had been stuck in the middle of nowhere in a whiteout snowstorm for nearly two hours and, werewolf or not, he was starting to have concerns for his extremities. He’d Beta-shifted to increase his body temperature but he hoped to avoid the full shift. He might be warmed but he’d also be a lone wolf, cold and hungry, with a potential threat running around.

He snarled unintentionally as the wind picked up again, stinging his cheeks and nearly taking his hat from his head. He usually quite enjoyed the snow. The cold didn’t bother him as much as it would a human and he’d always enjoyed the snowy, winter landscapes. Plus cozy nights by a fire had always drawn him in.

He was reconsidering those opinions.

A sudden sound made him twitch around and go still. The howl of the wind made it hard to pinpoint any other sound but it sounded almost like…

A howl. More of a roar, really, deep and guttural but enough for his wolf to stand to attention. Peter tilted his head and howled in response after only a moment of hesitation. Yes, this could go badly, but he could also die of exposure so he was willing to make that gamble.

He stayed where he was and tried to fight off the shivers. The call came a couple more times and Peter answered diligently.

Then suddenly it was there.

It stepped right in front of Peter from the swirling white snow, looking entirely unbothered by the storm. It was at least half a person taller than Peter and covered in white fur that made its large form appear even larger. Its face, hands, and possibly feet, were tough looking, with dark skin and Peter could see the large, sharp teeth in its mouth. It looked down at him with dark, golden eyes and Peter could easily imagine how terrifying this creature could be if it wanted to.

Fortunately it just seemed curious. It gave an inquisitive grunt that could mean anything from ‘do you need help’ to ‘can I eat you’.

Peter opened his mouth to say something but the wind whipped up again and a violent shudder wracked his body. The yeti reached forward and caught him easily when he listed to the side.

“Help,” he managed to get out despite his irritation at needing to ask. The yeti huffed, not seeming pleased, but lifted Peter up and cradled him against its warm, fuzzy chest with one arm. Peter would swear he saw it roll its eyes before his own fluttered closed.

*

Peter woke up and immediately took stock of his situation. He was out of Beta-shift and wearing fewer layers than he remembered but he was far warmer. He sat up cautiously and frowned at the pelt that was laid over him like a blanket. There was a small and well contained fire a small ways from him. He could have safely been left closer to it but he was glad he hadn’t been. He appreciated the warmth but he was still wary of fire.

He soon spotted his clothes, hanging around the cave he was apparently in. There were a few other pelts around, all looking properly tended. The only really unsettling thing in the cave was a collection of bones shunted out of the way. Peter was considering going over to investigate when he heard footsteps coming down the cave towards him. He lay back down and closed his eyes, listening intently.

The footsteps came into the section he was in, accompanied by the smell of raw meat, but didn’t approach him directly. Something thudded onto the ground before it was quiet for a moment, then a grunt and Peter’s eyes flew open as something hit him. Not too hard, but hard enough to make an obvious impact. The yeti snorted again when Peter looked over at it.

Any anger Peter had immediately faded when he saw the large moose the yeti had brought. It had been skinned and the antlers removed. His stomach gurgled and he could feel his fangs wanting to edge out so he could eat it without prep. He’d never been particularly fond of that but he could, and he was _hungry_. He glanced at the fire, wondering if the yeti cooked its food, but a tearing sound drew his attention back to the yeti who was quietly happily eating a leg.

Peter took a moment to debate before he slipped into his Beta-shift and moved towards the moose. He moved slowly, unsure how yeti felt about sharing their hunt. A pack would, of course, but yetis weren’t pack creatures and he didn’t want to anger his host. The yeti watched him but didn’t do anything to stop him even when Peter actually sunk his teeth into the meat.

He had to fight with his instincts to keep from tearing into it with ferocity. He’d gone longer without food but he didn’t enjoy it. When he’d left the base of operations he’d planned to be back for dinner at the latest. He knew he’d missed that, thanks to the storm, and he didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious.

They ate in silence. The yeti seemed as intent as Peter was to not get any blood on him. It made sense, he supposed, with all that white fur. Peter watched it curiously. Its hands were large, the black skin looked very tough, and its nails easily tore through the moose. He’d been right about its feet too, the fur ending at its ankles as it did at its wrist. The same touch black skin, which was apparently unaffected by things like snow and rocky mountainsides.

The yeti grunted and when Peter looked up its ape-like face gave him such an unimpressed look he snorted a laugh.

“Sorry,” he said, once he had his surprise burst of laughter under control. “I’ve just never met a yeti before.”

The yeti huffed and shrugged, though it still looked unimpressed. There was something about its eyes, so bright and intelligent.

“You’re a male right?” Peter asked. That was what he’d guess based on scent but he didn’t want to assume. The yeti actually raised an eyebrow at him before it nodded. Peter frowned slightly. “Can you not speak?”

The yeti bared its teeth, less threatening and more just displaying them. Then he made a noise Peter couldn’t begin to interpret but that still sounded familiar.

“Chewbacca,” he said without thinking. The yeti looked at him with clear surprise before it made another raspy noise that Peter took as a laugh. He grinned back. “So, you can’t talk. You’re not like this all the time, are you? Somehow I just don’t picture all this watching Star Wars.”

The yeti huffed, shrugged, nodded, and gave another Wookie growl.

“Have you been like this long?” Peter asked. The ‘yeti’ attacks had apparently started three months ago. “Months? Years?”

The yeti held up two fingers.

“Years? Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to do.”

The yeti shrugged. He seemed to hesitate then he put a finger to his lips before tapping his head.

“Quiet head? Your heads quieter like this? You rely more on your instincts?”

Shrug. Nod.

“Don’t you miss being human?”

The yeti stopped and stared at him for a moment. Then, rather suddenly, he got up and moved further into the cave, away from Peter but still in their section of cave, where he laid down with his back pointedly to Peter.

Peter frowned, unsure what had upset the Yeti. It didn’t look like he’d be getting much more conversation though. After seeing the moose he no longer felt an immediate need to investigate the bone pile, so instead he got up and headed to where he assumed the entrance was. The cold hit him before he even saw the entrance and when he did find it all he could see was white. Either the blizzard was still ongoing or another one had hit.

He didn’t know much about blizzards but something seemed off about both of those options.

He hurried back into the cave, craving the warmth from the fire and the pelt. The yeti apparently hadn’t moved and Peter lay down and pulled the pelt over himself without bothering the other creature. He should probably lay closer to the fire, shivers were wracking his body again, but he couldn’t bring himself to get closer.

The cold shouldn’t have affected him so quickly anyway. Peter curled up tighter, letting he Beta-shift settle and hold in his sleeping state.

*

It didn’t help.

Peter continued to shudder as he tried to get back to sleep. Even the pelt didn’t seem to be helping. He’d considered going full shift but part of him desperately didn’t want to. That instinctual part of him had served him well in the past and he wasn’t going to ignore it now.

Well, he might if he didn’t warm up soon. Damn this was worse than when he’d actually been in the snow.

A whine escaped him against his will.

A huff answered him and he turned to see the yeti get up and lumber towards him. He didn’t look pleased but he lay down next to Peter and his arms were gentle as he bundled Peter against him. He did it like he was on a mission, pressing as much of Peter against him as he could and curling around him like a protective barrier.

Peter might have argued except… it helped. Surrounded by the yeti’s soft fur he could feel himself warming up. He relaxed in the creatures hold and let out a small chuckled when he rumbled in response. The fur was amazingly soft. Seriously, he didn’t have a comparison for it and he made a point to live in luxury.

It was nice.

*

Peter woke up as he was gently rolled onto the floor. He cracked open his eyes to watch the yeti climb to his feet. He didn’t even look at Peter as he walked towards the entrance of the cave. They were far enough in that Peter could feel the wind from outside. He could hear the wind though, and his nose told him there was still fresh snow.

The storm couldn’t _still_ be going. Could it?

The yeti came back a moment later with a truly thunderous face. It was the kind of expression Peter expected to see on a possible man-eating monster. It was somewhat of a shock after Peter had seen how civil the yeti could be.

“Something the matter?” He asked curiously. The yeti huffed as he threw some wood on the coals and coaxed the fire back to life. Peter couldn’t help but frown at the action. “Do you need a fire?”

The yeti shook its head and pointed at Peter, though it still didn’t look at him.

“I need a fire? That’s very considerate of you but I try to avoid fire.”

The Yeti made a rough sound of amusement before he shrugged and nodded like he understood.

“Besides, if I get too cold I can just full shift and-”

The Yeti made an almost panicked noise and turned to finally look at Peter as it shook its head frantically. Peter frowned and cocked his head.

“Got a problem with wolves?”

The yeti huffed and rolled his eyes. Then he pointed at Peter and lifted his hand in front of his face. Confused, Peter lifted his own hand. He stared at the claws that greeted him. That… wasn’t normal. A Beta-shift didn’t stay in place when you were sleeping. It was a between stage, you had to _choose_ to hold it in place.

Peter focused on shifting down and it took excruciating _minutes_ to for his fingers to look human again.

“What was that?” Peter asked, his voice carefully neutral. He wouldn’t have something controlling him. He wouldn’t go out of control again. He _wouldn’t_.

The yeti huffed and gestured towards the entrance.

“Outside? The, the storm? The storm is holding my shift? Is that why I get so cold?”

The yeti made a Wookie noise, shrugged, and wiggled its hand in a so-so gesture. It was frustratingly uninformative.

“Alright, magic then. A magical snow storm?”

The yeti just stared at him.

“I need some answers here. If you’ve been here years, you must have noticed when this started happening. It… It’s affecting you too, isn’t it? That’s why you’re staying like that.”

The yeti glanced away, shrugged, and returned its attention to the fire.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

The yeti didn’t respond.

“Somethings trapped you in that form and you’re just going to accept it?”

Nothing.

“Are you just planning to live out the rest of your life like this? In a cave eating raw meat like you were never human?”

The yeti’s shoulders hunched.

“And what you think I’m going to sit around here and be your new pet werewolf? Well I hate to break it to you but _I_ want to go home. I’m not just going to roll over and let something else control my life.”

The yeti made an angry noise and stood. Peter stood to match him, not backing down when the yeti turned its angry eyes on him.

“If you want to sit in your cave and mope fine, but nothing controls me except me. I’m not going to volunteer to be somebody else’s plaything!”

The yeti had a hand around him and was roaring in his face. Its large teeth looked much more threatening up close and its hand managed to cover his whole chest and was holding hard enough to severely injure a regular human. Peter’s feet weren’t touching the ground.

“Touch a nerve?” Peter grit out, taking shallow breaths. “Don’t like that someone else knows you’re pathetic enough to resort to killing-”

Peter was tossed aside with another angry noise. He grunted as he hit the ground and turned to see the yeti leaving. Peter rolled his eyes and sat up to think. His healing felt sluggish, something he could speed up by shifting.

Like the cold.

It was a trap. A magical cold that would force Peter into a full shift, only for him to be stuck and left prey to… something. The trap couldn’t be for _him_ though, not if it had been affecting the yeti long before he arrived. So a trap for the yeti.

Why?

Peter settled in to await the confrontation when the yeti returned. He would, after all, this was his cave.

…

Several hours passed and Peter finally caved and headed for the entrance. The cold started nipping at him well before it should and Peter scowled as he continued forward. That stupid yeti was going to help him sort this out whether he like it or not.

Stop.

Yeti.

Abominable snowman.

He was entirely unaffected by the cold.

Why would anyone leave a trap half sprung?

Peter started shivering and he Beta-shifted before he could even think about it. He scowled as his thoughts raced.

There was no reason to leave a trap half sprung unless there wasn’t another option. The yeti was trapped in his full yeti form but he had home field advantage. Yetis _belonged_ in this kind of territory. You don’t hunt something like that, in its strongest form, on its home ground. Hell, most people wouldn’t even…

Be able to find it.

Wasn’t that what he’d been called here for? To find the yeti?

Spencer had told him that the yeti had appeared three months ago but the yeti claimed to have been here for years. Wasn’t it just so unlucky that the snowstorm had suddenly struck just after Peter had left?

Just a favour.

A favour for his old acquaintance and his new wife.

His wife who smelt of ozone and _something_.

Magic.

That…

“Ah, so this is where you got to.”

“You son of a bitch,” Peter snarled around his fangs as he looked up at Spencer and Alisa as they walked towards him from the entrance of the cave. They looked fine and untouched by the storm he could still hear raging.

“Ah, so you finally figured it out,” Spencer said with a smirk. “I’ll be honest, I was surprised you fell for it so easily. I guess that whole coma thing was bound to have consequences. You used to be a much better match.”

“You used to be less heavy handed with the betrayal.”

“No, you wolves just tend to see loyalty where it isn’t. You’re naturally easy to fool once you’ve gotten to know someone.”

“I suppose I should have reconsidered. I haven’t had much luck with you big cats.”

“As much as I’m enjoying this witty banter,” Alisa said with disdain. “Can we get down to business? Where’s the yeti.”

“I don’t know,” Peter said with a grin. “I guess you should have called someone else.”

“Well, we’ve still got time for that,” Alisa said. “It shouldn’t be too hard to collect him now that we know where his cave is. He’s surprisingly tricky to track.”

“We’ll know for next time though,” Spencer said with a shrug. “Besides, the head of an Alpha wolf will fetch almost as good a price as a yeti coat.”

“Of course,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve decided to take a more active part in your black market interest.”

“It’s a lot easier with someone as clever as Alisa,” Spencer said with a fond smile. “Now, let’s move this along. You might as well shift. You’ll die of exposure if you don’t, and there’s no way you can beat me like that.”

“Think I’ll take my chances,” Peter replied as he lunged at Alisa. The wind whipped up and Spencer collided with him before he could touch the witch. Peter snarled. Of course she was fucking enhancing him. They scrambled for a short moment before Spencer through him.

Peter didn’t realise how close he’d got to the exit until he landed in snow. The cold immediately sunk to his bones and the urge to shift barrelled through him.

“You think you’re so amazing because you’re managing without a pack,” Spencer said mockingly as he walked out at a sedate pace, Alisa a step behind him. They walked on the snow like they didn’t weigh anything. “You forget that so many of us don’t even need a pack to start with. You think yourselves superior because you always have numbers. You don’t have numbers now, Peter. You’ll have to shift.”

“Bite me,” Peter said despite the shudder that wracked through him as he stood. He wouldn’t shift. He was no good to them as a Beta-shift corpse.

“How original,” Spencer said with a roll of his eyes. “I am honestly surprised though. I thought for sure the yeti would kill you. By now it has to know we’re after it. Yet it let you into its den, fed you, kept you warm. Tell me, how did you convince it to do that?”

That gave Peter pause because he _hadn’t_. He hadn’t convinced the yeti of anything it had called to him or, no, thinking back it had answered that unintentional snarl. It had heard him and come to investigate. He remembered that first inquisitive grunt and suddenly it had new meaning.

_‘What the hell, dude.’_

Spencer grabbed his throat and Peter took a moment to wonder about wishful thinking.

“I really am going to need you to shift now. No hard feelings, Peter, it’s business.”

Then suddenly he was there.

Peter watched the yeti – Stiles, was it Stiles? – drop, seemingly from the air but more likely from the mountain side, and land with a heavy thud and a loud roar behind Spencer. Spencer dropped him in surprise and the yeti – could it really be? – grabbed Spencer as it had Peter, though far less gentle, and threw him at the rock face.

Spencer made a pained noise but the yeti was already turning to Alisa, snarling. Peter watched as snow swirled around the pair and ice spikes began shooting up from Alisa towards the yeti.

The wind changed.

Rather, two opposing winds suddenly collided, the snow a think bombardment from both sides and Peter let out a deep laugh.

“You brought an _ice witch_ to fight a _yeti_.” He said as he continued to laugh.

Alisa seemed to recognise the flaw in their plan and resorted to some other spell. Peter didn’t know what it was but the magic shot from her hand only for the yeti to knock it aside and roar again. The spell blew a chunk out of the rock face and was summarily ignored.

Then he charged.

Where Alisa stood lightly on top of the snow the yeti barrelled through it as though it wasn’t there.

There was no gentleness when he reached her. He grabbed her, one hand around her torso and one around her legs, and pulled.

Peter felt warmth suddenly flood through him as the magical cold broke. It was like his world had been temporarily off its axis and he hadn’t even noticed until it righted himself. Suddenly he could pick up the familiar, different, newer and wilder and delightfully familiar scent. Warm, powerful, and unhampered once more Peter couldn’t help but grin as he watched the yeti – _Stiles_ – throw the two part of a body of to the side with an angry noise. Blood stained the snow and the white fur. The wind and snow continued to swirl wildly around them but now it was clear who stood at the eye of the storm.

“Alisa, you, you _killed_ -”

Spencer charged at the yeti seemingly without thinking. His marriage had apparently been real, at least. Stiles glanced at him, face still enraged, and made as though to backhand the man who was still a good distance from him. The wind snow storm did the job for him, tossing Spencer to the side. Spencer started climbing to his feet immediately.

Peter could see the feral edge to him as the wereleopard’s shift started taking over.

Spencer roared, Stiles roared back. Spencer leapt and Stiles shifted his stance to prepare for the collision. He caught Spencer with ease and Peter almost immediately heard a yelp of pain. The scuffle was brief and ended with Spencer being flung, not at the rock this time, but to Peter.

Peter got the scent of pain, rage, and loss but he disregarded all of it as he crouched down to the man’s level.

“Nothing personal,” Peter said just before he slashed his claws across Spencer’s throat. “I don’t like loose ends.”

Peter brushed his hand off as he looked up, only to find Stiles gone. Peter was immediately on alert and with a little effort could hear the footsteps and heartbeat inside the cave. He followed after them quickly. Like hell he was losing track of Stiles again, especially with this new detail.

He passed a few spots of red slush and guessed Stiles was trying to clean his fur. He’d been so neat when eating, after all, it was clearly important to him.

He came into the cavern Stiles had kept him in just in time to see Stiles’s large yeti form climb into what looked like a nest of pelts and begin to shrink down. The foreign, wild addition to Stiles’s scent faded, though it didn’t disappear and Peter felt unexpected elation at the final confirmation. His wolf rumbled pleasantly, delighted to have found the closest thing they’d had to a pack mate since they died. Possibly since the fire.

He approached the nest cautiously. He wasn’t shifted, and he couldn’t imagine he was a threat to the boy, man now, who could turn into a yeti and possibly wield magic in both forms. Stiles didn’t acknowledge his presence, just curled up in the pelts like he was trying to ignore the world.

It was until Peter actually touched the nest that Stiles spoke.

“I’m not weak,” he said, the tiniest quiver in his voice.

“I would never dream to suggest you were.”

“You said-”

“You got complacent. You spent at least three months alone in full shift. God knows what you were doing for the years before that. You needed a push. You always did look glorious angry.”

“Oh great, your still a creep.”

“Delighted to be of service. May I join you?”

There was a pause, long enough that Peter started plotting how to get back into Stiles’s good graces.

“How’d you become an Alpha again?”

“I killed a feral Alpha and I slaughtered the hunters responsible for her situation,” Peter said, deciding honesty was the best policy. Especially seeing as he wasn’t too sure of Stiles’s abilities anymore.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Since someone left Beacon Hills without leaving contact information I haven’t particularly felt the need to lay down roots.”

There was another pause in conversation but then Stiles rolled over and opened his arms with a somewhat uncertain expression. Peter just barely contained his excitement as he climbed in beside Stiles and wrapped his arms around him in turn.

Peter was sure they would both have questions later, he certainly did, but for now…

For now Stiles wriggled closer to Peter and buried his face in his neck. He was warm and smelt amazing and the wolf in Peter was radiating contentment and filling him with thoughts of _pack_ and _den_ and a hint of _mate_.

Really, Alaska was a good a place as any to settle down.

Peter held Stiles closer and buried his nose in the crook of Stiles’s neck with a grin.

Yes. Questions could wait until they woke.

**Author's Note:**

> Goal this year: All Steter Week fics will be one-shots. Let's see how that goes.


End file.
